Once Bitten, Twice Shy
by WaddleBuff
Summary: It all started with a drink. Coldness embraced both of them, two people alone in a crowded room. Everyone around had someone else to lean on, someone to enjoy the Snowdown season with. Then they found each other, only to have a heart broken, the other heart completely changed. Now, one year later, are things still the same? Or have things changed for the better? Or for the worse?
1. Thank you!

_Sunlight filters from outside of the Institute of War into a small, messy dormitory room. White bed sheets flow from the bed onto the floor, several pieces of clothing lying on the carpet as well._

_The walls of the bedroom are adorned with huge posters of female League Champions in provocative clothing, posing very suggestively. Most of these pictures are depicting a certain nine-tailed fox, the obvious favorite Champion of the occupant of the room._

_Atop a wooden desk, crumpled papers and used inkwells surround a purple-robed Summoner hard at work with a feather-quilled pen, the long white appendage of his pen quivering with every letter he writes._

_Occasionally the Summoner will take a large gulp from his cup of Earl Grey tea before returning to his work. If it were not for his hood, one would see his cheeks flushed with arousal, his breaths shallow and quick. If one's gaze fell downward slightly, they would also see a large pitched tent in the Summoner's crotch area, whatever he is writing on his parchment obviously something vulgar and not safe for work. His eyes squint from behind his wire-framed spectacles, desperate to finish his work._

_Finally, the Summoner slams down his pen onto the wooden desk with a ceremonious flourish before clasping his hands together and reaching towards the sky. He lets out a satisfied outburst of release as his bones crack as they are stretched. After a few minutes of ministrations, he lets out one last satisfied sigh before standing up and walking towards a cabinet. Reaching inside, the Summoner extracts a large bottle of scotch and an empty glass._

"_This victory calls for a drink," he says to nobody in particular, filling up the glass with the precious liquor._

_Suddenly, his eyes meet with yours, resulting in a surprised gasp. _

_Instantly the Summoner sets down his liquor and his glass, looking at you intently with his dark brown eyes, a few wisps of his brownish-black hair obstructing your view of his pupils._

_All at once, he breaks out into a large grin, his squinty Ionian-descent eyes becoming nothing but mere slits as his cheeks push upward. He removes his hood and clasps his hands together in excitement, his eyes still locked with yours._

_The Summoner chuckles, shaking his head._

_Finally he speaks, his possessing a strange high-pitched baritone, his vocal chords obviously still developing._

"_Why, hello there! It's nice of you to drop by in the middle of my work, dear reader. Here, sit down!"_

_He gestures toward a plush loveseat, a rip in its armrest letting a bit of its stuffing to peek out into the air. You sit down in the chair as the Summoner pulls out a seat for him to sit in._

"_Haha, sorry if I'm overwhelming you a bit here. I'm just excited to see you. Oh? Why am I doing this? Where's the story? Ah, well I apologize. I sometimes get ahead of myself a bit too much. _

"_What you're witnessing is a mere public service announcement. But a more accurate title is a thank you. A thank you for what? For all of your support of course!" The Summoner breaks out into a guffawing, kneeslapping laugh._

"_Look, it's been a year since I started writing for League of Legends fanfiction, and I just wanted to thank you for reading, reviewing and just plain being there for me. It really means a lot to me that you have been supporting me through this incredible journey as writer. To be honest, my first story was just something I scribbled down because I was horny. But thanks to you, I now have a whole career ahead of me. You don't know how much you have done, and how grateful I am to you. Many times I was very close to abandoning this writing endeavor in order to pursue some foolish dream of being an internet sensation, but you were always there to support me, always there to help me get back on my feet."_

_The Summoner's eyes twinkle as tears pool up in the bottom of his eyelids. He gives a huge sigh filled with sentiment before finally standing and extending a hand for you to grasp._

"_That's all I wanted to say to you my dear reader. I do hope this hasn't been a disturbance for you."_

_With that, the Summoner surprises you by embracing you in a warm hug. Separating from you, he shakes our body a bit with the hands clasped on your shoulders._

"_Well…without further ado, I guess it's time for the story hm?"_

_You nod meekishly._

"_Alright then. I hope you enjoy it. And as always, Excelsior!"_

_The Summoner then kicks you in your gut, sending you flying through the stone wall of his room into the vast expanse of nothing, breaking you through the fourth wall back to from whence you came._

_And now, you can hear his laugh as this PSA finally ends, bringing forth the beginning of the story…_


	2. Last Snowdown

As the case with most stories of this nature, it all started with a drink.

_One year ago…_

It was a particularly chilly December evening, the night colder than usual due to a Freljordian cold front.

Snow slowly fell from the black skies in bloated icy puffs outside the Institute of War, blanketing everything in a thick white layer.

Orange light from the windows implanted into the walls of the Institute flickered and danced atop the snow, teasing the cold with the warmth held inside the stone walls. But the cold stubbornly snaked her way within gaps of the walls, the interior of the dormitories becoming a tad bit chillier than usual as a result of her mischievous ministrations.

Weaving her way through torch-lit corridors, the cold looked about at the various decorations decking the halls; poinsettias, golden bells and evergreen branches adorn the walls at every turn.

It was the Time of Snowdown.

If one where to join the cold in its journey down the halls, they would have heard the sounds of joyful reverie bursting out of every door they passed. The atmosphere of the Institute during this night is much looser and jovial, the usual tension and bitterness that bound the halls almost nonexistent. The silent shuffling of feet usually echoing through the Institute is replaced with music and laughter ringing the halls, many Summoner and Champions walking about just enjoying themselves.

Yes, the Time of Snowdown was a shared occasion almost everyone enjoyed.

Almost.

The cold finally filled every empty crevice she could find until she slipped into one last unoccupied candlelit room.

Within the room sat a woman clad in a provocative silken dress, hugging her knees atop her bed. Nine furry tails dance behind her as she burrowed her face into her knees. Candlelight flickered upon her face as she stared dismally into nothing in particular, her sharp fox ears trying their best to ignore the sounds of revelry outside her room.

Ahri, the Nine-Tailed Fox, a Champion who had joined the League a mere few weeks before, was lonesome that night. Her bed which usually squeaked with the activity of her and a willing partner stayed silent as she rocked about in her fetal position. A gloomy look occupied her visage that stayed partially concealed beneath her black, wispy locks.

She had arrived at the League a few weeks ago, and already she had already made many…acquaintances. Since essence thievery was prohibited, the only way she could satisfy her desires was through the intimate activities of sex. This was also the only way Ahri could drive away her emotions of loneliness.

The fox had no friends. The only "friends" she had were the men who returned to her bedroom to satisfy their needs and hers. Women hated her for what she was, making relationships with almost anyone of the opposite gender impossible. Ahri was still relatively young in human years, making her innocent in the ways of the world despite the extensive roster of men she had shared her body with.

Her short-term relationships proved to bear no fruit, for during this Snowdown season everyone around her had friends, lovers, and family to spend time with. Nobody cared about her.

Most of the men merely viewed Ahri as a disposable pleasure. The closest thing to a relationship Ahri had encountered is having a man call her a "friend with benefits". But where was the "friend" now? Now when she needed him the most?

_Ba…dump. Ba…dump. Ba…dump._

Her heart beat slowly in a jaded thump. It almost always did without the embrace of a man, an embrace that she was all too familiar with.

And as the night wore on, her craving for such an embrace grew stronger and stronger.

The cold that had wandered into the room halted in her tracks, the depressing scene before her enough to make the silent entity feel compassion for the fox on the bed. But she still had a job to do. Hesitantly rushing forth, the cold proceeded to fill up the corners of Ahri's bedroom before finally blanketing Ahri's bare skin in a frosty embrace, gaining a harsh shiver.

Her ears twitch, tails instinctively covering her in a warm protective hug.

Suddenly Ahri's eyes blinked hastily, her dead eyes revived with a new sort of life. She looked around as if struck with a revelation. Ahri couldn't take this anymore. She wanted, _needed _someone with her.

Now.

Somewhat of a revelation strikes the cold, galvanizing her to action. With a fierce intent, the cold continued to assault the fox, seeping past her furry tails as best she could, further encouraging Ahri to stand up from the bed. Finally she put on her long stockings and maroon-hued shoes.

The cold smiled at her success, waving silently at the solitary fox as she walked out of her dormitory room into the chilly halls of the Institute to head toward her usual hunting grounds; the Reflecting Chamber bar, a place where men would drink their troubles away.

With every step, Ahri's intent to bring back home a companion grew unwavering. As her golden eyes glinted in the festive lighting of the halls, she forced a seductive grin to plant itself on her lips.

_This is the only way..._

* * *

In the opposite side of the Institute of War, the cold continued to sweep through the dormitories, careful not to miss any warm spots. The snow continued to slowly pelt down in the unforgiving outdoor environment, encouraging the invisible force to continue her work in increased droves.

In this area of the Institute, the far North Wing, the jolliness and happiness that occupied the other halls of the dormitories is slightly lessened. For the North Wing housed the "alien" Champions, the unfortunate souls transported to Runeterra by some unknown force. Not knowing much about the Snowdown season, these Champions mostly kept to themselves, some of them trying their best to be "jolly".

Replicating her efforts in the East Wing, the cold swiftly swept across every crevice and hidden space still housing warmth. She noticed the undecorated walls in this new untouched area, also taking note of the strange stillness that was not present in any of the other areas it had conquered within the Institute of War.

Furtively slipping her way into the last room, once again the cold stopped, eyeing yet another gloomy scene.

A burly yet gentle-looking man slumped gloomily atop a wooden table, the side of his face pressing against the surface of the wood while his arms spread about him lazily. One of his hands twirled a glowing gem, revolving it in different directions every few rotations. Long brown hair cascaded from his head, the hair glowing and smooth beneath the immaculate gem-studded chandelier fixture hanging from the ceiling. His skin glowed in all of its smooth glory, coupled with his hair to create a most feminine quality.

His long eyelashes batted about as he blinked in sadness. It was the second Snowdown season for Taric the Gem Knight, and again he was spending it utterly alone. The cold still lingered at his feet, hesitating slightly at the sight that lay before her.

Taric had always been alone at the Institute; he was meek, shy. It was not that he did not enjoy company or attention, it was just that he did not seem to find the right words to say whenever confronted in a social situation.

For example, during the first months or so at the Institute, he bashfully walked about to look for companions, everything in this new world completely alien to him. Much to his dismay, at every corner anyone who encountered him would laugh at him, lightly insulting his choice of attire. Some even went as far as to assume he was homosexual, several Summoners of this sexual orientation automatically receiving his call for friendship as an invitation for some naughty activities.

Nobody understood the poor gem knight. Nobody could see that his attire was merely battle armor, the most masculine his homeworld had to offer. Nobody understood that his fine complexion and his groomed hair were all natural, a hereditary trait passed on from his ancestors. Nobody gave him a chance at friendship, a chance at anything other than being the butt of jokes.

Around the Time of Snowdown, things were much worse.

Taric was always shunned, excluded from all social activity. Although some parties were welcoming and friendly, Taric was still scarred from his initial experiences with the inhabitants of the Institute of War, making him frightened to interact with other Champions.

Thus Taric turned into a shut-in, a person who kept quiet and withdrawn when in the public eye, one who preferred privacy over anything. This was the complete opposite of what Taric really was inside, but he had no choice but to adapt.

He sighed heavily once more.

The cold that looked up at the man above her as she pondered at her next action. She still had to continue with her job, but this man, this oh-so pathetic man clad in nothing but a cloth short-sleeved shirt and brown leather trousers didn't seem to have needed any more trouble. Suddenly the cold felt a hand upon her shoulder. Turning her invisible head, her eyes widened at the sight of fate himself.

It was a rare occasion to see such a potent force of nature so close, and here he was, smiling down upon her with his wise smile.

_Allow me._

Suddenly the cold feels fate control her every move, her fingers blanketing Taric on their own accord. She blushed at the intimate contact with fate, slightly dampening the potency of her chill.

The cold felt a bit sorry as her body covered the man, making him shiver profusely. But suddenly, at this interruption to his period of wallowing in depression, Taric's body flew upright. The sudden movement surprised the cold, causing her drift toward the door in shock. Fate followed behind her with no indication of surprise or shock. Together they observed Taric as his emotions began to churn and roil.

The eyes that had been dismal with defeat were now occupied with a determined fire, some of the flames flickering with anger.

Taric had had enough. His inner man had finally risen for a surface.

Speaking in a solid tone to no one in particular, he bellowed,

"I'm going for a drink."

He stood up, making the chair he had been sitting in scrape against the cobblestone floor with a loud _screech. _

With that the Gem Knight shoved past the cold who had been nervously observing in front of the door. He stomped away through the warmer halls of the dormitories, leaving the cold to meekly wave at his back before he turned a corner out of sight. Once again the cold felt fate's presence behind her back.

Turning round, the cold is surprised by a sudden slap on the back by fate's strong hand. The cold blushed slightly at the approving wink she received from fate's handsome visage, a lock of frosty hair falling in front of her eye.

_Good work. Now we watch._

And watch they did, the cold and fate winding through the decked halls of the Institute to follow the Gem Knight as he walked over the Reflecting Chamber's bar for a drink.


	3. I Gave You My Heart

The atmosphere in the Reflecting Chamber, as with most of the Institute, was filled with happiness and revelry. On the stage a four-man bebop band performed jazzified renditions of Valoran's Snowdown carols, making the atmosphere all the more jovial.

But if one were to venture into the smoke-filled area of the bar, the sounds and echoes of the revelry occurring in the other areas of the Reflecting Chamber is muffled by the ever-present melancholy mood surrounding the stools and booth seats. Several Summoners lounged about with cigars and cigarettes, seemingly unaffected by the Snowdown cheer. Rumble manned (Yordled?) his usual station behind the bar, serving drinks while donning his suited miniature mech.

It is into this hazy dullness that Ahri sashayed with a seductive strut.

She turned the head of many a Summoner and Champion, her essence orb flicking around her tails. Being a new Champion, many of the Summoners there had only seen Ahri in the published media circulated around the Institute of War. Seeing her in person, so close and so tantalizingly tempting made the majority of the men in that room sit a little bit straighter, trying their best to look the part. Ahri quickly surveyed the faces of the men throwing her lustful gazes, analyzing each one to see if they were worthy for her needs.

None.

She walked two deliberate laps around the bar until she was sure that had checked on each and every male sitting there. With every step she could feel the lust for her grow all around her, but still it seemed every man that sat in that room not good enough for her. Giving an irritated _humph_, Ahri sat herself down in one of the barstools, absentmindedly ordering a glass of Dack Janiels.

_Why do all the good men have to be sleeping with other women?_

With another lonesome pout, Ahri swiped the glass filled with orange-colored liquor, quickly gulping down the whiskey without acknowledging a thank you to the barman (baryordle?) handing her the drink.

Scoffing, Rumble walked away to resume his work of polishing cleaned glasses.

"Who pissed in her canteen?" he muttered to himself.

"Nobody," Ahri responded, much to his surprise; Rumble forgot to take note of her fox ears capable of catching a whisper uttered in a room all the way on the other side of the Institute.

Gritting her teeth after finishing off the rest of her glass with a large gulp, she continued,

"Which is exactly why I'm feeling this way."

Right after the last word was uttered, Taric strode into the Reflecting Chamber, his gait determined and confident. His lustrous brown hair shone beneath the bright cheerful lights shining from fixtures installed into the ceiling, highlighting the grim emotions displayed on his visage.

But once the Gem Knight passed several Summoners giving him their usual jeering looks, pointing openly at his soft complexion, mocking his long hair, that determined confidence once again withered away softly. His stride become a bit softer, just a tad bit smaller than before, then that determined look on his face began to wear away to be replaced with a nervous grin, until finally Taric walked at his usual pace, one of his hand rubbing his arm meekly as his feet made their way toward the bar.

Behind him, the cold snaked along the ground, hand in hand with fate. Everyone in the room felt the presence of both entities, resulting in simultaneous shivers and comments of 'Hey, did it just get chillier in here?'. These two forces of nature tailed Taric as slowly as they could, fate being as delicate as possible with his controlling fingers.

Finally Taric entered the smoky veil of the bar, sighing in small relief.

He had been here several times before for a drink, but mostly because he enjoyed the overall atmosphere encompassing the area; the accumulated cigarette smoke dulled the lights from shining off of his complexion and well-groomed hair, making him less visible to other people, thus making him less prone to insults and jabs. For Taric, the bar of the Reflecting Chamber was the only public location that he felt secure. Sure, people could still see him clearly, continuing with their ignorant assumptions, but at least his gem-like features couldn't shine in all their luster.

Planting himself down on a stool, he grinned at Rumble as the Yordle set down his cleaning and began strutting to his direction. Taric always enjoyed the company of the barman, as was the case with all the people who purchased a drink from him. Despite his fiery, mischievous personality, Rumble always became a bit more soft and tenderhearted when he worked inside of his suited bar-mech.

"Hey, look who's back!" Rumble exclaimed at Taric, who looked around shyly to check if anyone had noticed his loud welcome. Not wanting to be rude, he forced a chuckle at the Yordle and gave him the best grin he could under his lonesome circumstances.

"Yeah. Just wanted to have a drink," he replied softly.

"Psh. Obviously you lugnut. The usual?"

Taric gave this some thought before shaking his head.

"Something a bit…stronger."

Rumble gave him a raised eyebrow, stopping his progress of setting out a clean glass with his mechanized arms. The Yordle silently pondered this for a while, for it wasn't like Taric to order anything stronger than a beer. Amidst his silent confusion, his eyes wandered to the slumped figure of Ahri, her half-finished drink in one hand as her dead eyes stared into the liquid to search for answers. A sudden dawn of realization crossed his visage, his widened eyes deftly switching between the fox and the Gem Knight. Sure enough, both wore the same lonesome expression, and both even sighed at the exact same time. A mischievous grin crossed the Yordle's face as he reached for a Dack Janiel's, the same drink that was being gripped by the limp fox seated beside Taric.

"So you feelin' the Snowdown blues too huh?"

At this sudden question Taric felt as if someone had smacked him on the back, his eyes narrowing into a wince.

"Is that what they call it?" he inquired, his hand subconsciously bringing the glass Rumble had handed him to his lips. He nearly spat out the strong liquor, the whiskey much too strong to the man accustomed to tame ales and beers.

Rumble chuckled at this reaction before extracting a random unpolished glass from within a compartment embedded into his mechanical suit. Once his hands busied themselves with wiping the glass clean, he gave Taric an exasperated sigh.

"Come on you dingus, you've been here long enough haven'tcha?"

"Well…yes, but I'm still getting used to all of these terms you…Valoranites throw around. I have yet to figure out what a "dundering Void-flamingo" is…," Taric replied with distaste, his mind recalling the insult when it had been directed toward him due to his Summoner's unfavorable conduct in a match.

"Oh, never mind all that." Rumble suddenly sets down his work to lean against the counter, sighing whilst looking into Taric's eyes with a pitying look. "You still haven't made any…friends. Have you?"

Once again, Rumble's interjection hit Taric as hard as a punch in the gut. He winced and nodded slightly.

Rumble shook his head slowly. His prolonged eye contact finally made Taric uncomfortable, making him break it to gaze down into the liquor held within his glass.

The cold swept across his shoulders, fate looking upon her work with approval.

Silence ensued until that mischievous grin crossed reappeared on Rumble's face.

"Hey," he hissed, his eyes darting between Taric's raised head and Ahri's slumped shoulders.

Leaning forward with a slight struggle of hydraulics and pistons, the blue Yordle positioned himself directly next to Taric's ear.

"See that girl over there?"

Taric's eyes looked about to find the mentioned woman until finally resting on the red-clad nine-tailed fox, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her sleek, white tails lazily twirling through the air, the black ears resting atop her head twitching idly.

Then his eyes wandered, taking in her perfect curves, the creamy skin that glowed beneath the ambient lighting of the bar. Blushing profusely he looked away, desperately shooing away the vulgar thoughts already trying to occupy his mind.

"Y-Yes. What about her?"

Rumble chuckles.

"You've heard about her right? That new fox Champion."

"I know about her. But why are we talking about her?"

"It seems like you two are in the same boat."

Taric's heart skipped a beat.

"Wh…What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Snowdown blues is written all over her."

Sure enough, turning his head in Ahri's direction, Taric could see the same dead gaze that had been occupying his eyes when he had been lying disconsolate on the wooden table within his room. She was even positioned in the same posture he had been sitting in.

Taric's eyes softened, filled with compassion, his emotions instantly relating to hers.

Before Rumble could say anything more, the Gem Knight had already stood with his drink to walk over to her, moving down two, three seats in order to sit directly next to her.

Rumble chuckled once more, mumbling under his breath as he resumed his work.

"Go get 'em tiger."

* * *

Fate smiled at the cold, the strings connected to his long fingers directing Taric to sit in the stool next to Ahri's. It gave a silent nod to cold, prompting her to run a finger along Ahri's exposed shoulder.

Ahri shivered, waking from her "slumber". She looked around her, rolling her eyes at the exaggerated winks and cheesy grins thrown toward her direction. Sure, it was amusing the first few minutes she had been sitting there, but now the men were just getting desperate and annoying. Sitting upright, she took the glass on the counter before her and raised it to her lips before her peripheral vision suddenly caught the pair of eyes gawking at her.

Taric was utterly captivated. Never before had the Gem Knight seen such a beautiful woman, one that looked so…so…

…truly, truly, truly outrageous.

And this in turn was an understatement.

As Ahri's golden, uninterested pupils met with his eyes, Taric could feel something within his mind click.

Fate smiled. This was what one might describe as "love at first sight".

At the sight of the man before her, Ahri's eyes widened. Her breath caught slightly at the sight of his exposed arm muscles, the sheer burliness of his figure as a whole captivating her unsatisfied desire.

He was perfect for her needs.

Upon realizing that his eyes were latched with the woman's before him, Taric suddenly broke away quickly, his fine complexion turning red as he blushed profusely. A violent, nervous spasm suddenly rocks his body, his arm sweeping through the air, resulting in his drink to spill all over the bar counter.

Letting out a squeak of surprise, Taric's wild eyes skittered about along with his hands as he desperately tried to stop the spreading puddle of ice and liquor. Seeing that his efforts were futile, Taric instead shoved his elbow into the middle of the puddle of whiskey, resting his head upon it casually, pretending nothing had happened.

This whole ordeal happened in less than four seconds, and already Ahri could tell this was just the man she was looking for.

Her eyes that had been dismal and defeated suddenly swirled with their normal seductive gleam, a playful fire burning within her pupils. Her body rocked gently as she giggled at the man's antics.

At this sight Taric couldn't withhold a sudden sigh of awe. Without thinking, he suddenly whispered,

"Yo-You're beautiful."

Ahri is visibly taken aback by this, a hint of blush flittering onto her cheeks. She had heard this compliment hundreds of times before, but never had she heard it uttered so sincerely.

"Thank you."

"Wha-I uh…me…_I'M TARIC_," the gem knight blurted, stumbling over his words as he desperately tried to cover up his previous blunder, his complexion turning into a darker shade of crimson.

Simultaneously, he shoved his hand forward for a handshake. But instead of the empty air he had expected to meet once he extended his hand, Taric instead felt his right hand engulfed by a soft warmth.

He sees that Ahri's gaze was turned downward, her lips curled into an embarrassed grin, her cheeks now a deep red.

"Oh, Mister Taric…"

Following her eyes, he realized that the trajectory of his arm had somehow been diverted when he thrust it outward…

…resulting in his hand to become buried between Ahri's breasts.

A minute or two passes in very, very, very awkward silence, Taric's hand frozen in place, his jaw dropped. Then all at once, both parties swivel in their bar stools uncomfortably, turning their bodies away from each other once Taric's hand removed itself from Ahri's breast to awkwardly scratch the back of his head.

Facing a direction not visible to the woman sitting next to him, Taric silently cursed himself, making grimaces and scowls capable of scaring off even the most hardened man.

Behind him, he didn't notice Ahri observe him with amusement, giggling softly.

_Well this is interesting. It's been a while since I met someone so…innocent._

Swiveling her body to face Taric's again, she grinned at his continued display of humility.

Deciding that it was time to move on, she gently clears her throat to catch his attention. Taric however was still enraptured with his shame, head in his hands, Ahri's small call for attention flying past his ears. Ahri repeated her action, this time clearing her throat just a bit louder. Taric continued to inadvertently ignore her.

Shaking her head in amusement, Ahri leaned forward, reaching out with her right hand.

"Hey…"

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

"_AH!_"

Taric's slumped body suddenly bolted upright in a flash at Ahri's touch. She instinctively withdrew her hand in surprise at his sudden movement. He looked around to see the cause of the sudden contact with his body, eyes frantic. Once realizing it was Ahri's hand that had touched his shoulder, Taric immediately swiveled round to face her.

His eyes met hers, with his face wearing an expression of apology. His animated actions as he apologized amused Ahri greatly, the grin on her lips not at all forced.

"Look, I-I'm sorry. I swear it was an accid-"

Taric is cut short, Ahri's finger resting at his lips.

"Sssh…," Ahri softly hissed seductively, her eyes wearing their sultry glare.

"Let's just forget about that."

At this Taric's face nearly turned purple from the blossoms of blush pushing themselves onto his visage.

The cold grinned as she embraced his lips once the warmth of Ahri's finger withdrew with her hand.

The cold looked behind her shoulder with a smile, one of her cerulean eyes covered with that lock of hair that refused to stay atop her head. But once her gaze met with fate's, her visage turned to one of worry; fate's face is grim, a hint of sorrow tinting his eyes. Wondering what is wrong, the cold looked back to the scene of Ahri and Taric. Nothing seemed off, in fact, the two seemed to be getting along quite nicely, their gloomy moods totally done away with.

But after a moment of thinking, the cold's face finally dawned with realization; it was well-known among all the forces of nature that fate could foresee the future. This fact was obvious however; fate was the one who determined the future.

Upon this revelation the cold drifted next to fate as his fingers continued to control the events below. She gave him an anxious, questioning look, to which fate replied with a sad shake of his head.

Realizing that he would not tell her what he foresaw, the cold remained silent by his side, watching Ahri and Taric continue with their interactions.

"Anyway, let's just continue from the beginning shall we?" Ahri said with a giggle. At this, she thrust her hand forward with a wink. "My name is Ahri."

Taric stared at her hand before finally replying.

"O-Oh, I'm…Taric. Taric." Shakily the gem knight extended his hand to grasp Ahri's with a nervous grasp.

She giggled at his tentativeness, her hand dwarfed by Taric's large, manly fingers. After the brief handshake, the two stare at each other in a somewhat awkward silence.

"So Mister Taric…," Ahri said, keeping eye contact with him whilst reaching for her glass of Dack Janiels

"….are you enjoying the uh…Snowdown season?"

At this Taric winced. Conjuring up a quick fib, he instantly replied,

"O-Of course. I mean, everyone is aren't they?"

He could see a change in her face at this, but it is barely noticeable as a result of the glass partially covering her visage.

"It definitely seems that way."

Ahri sighed before covering the slip in her act with that grin of hers.

Silence.

Taric sat rigid on his stool, looking expectantly at Ahri for any other questions.

For him, it felt more like talking to an interviewer than a casual conversation at the bar.

Seeing that he couldn't say anything, Ahri played along.

"Do you come here often?"

"Y-yes actually. I like it here…even if I'm not really favorable to alcohol," Taric said with a nervous laugh.

"Mmm…you come alone?"

"Of co-…yes."

Ahri took a sip of her drink, the grin on her lips widening.

"Do you usually_ leave_ alone?"

"Uh…yes," Taric replied, completely oblivious to what Ahri was implying.

She giggled softly, amused at his cluelessness.

"So…I'm guessing you have no women in your life," Ahri said with a slow blink, her bottom lip entering her mouth slightly.

Blush returned to Taric's cheeks with the force of a powerful wind gust. Unable to utter an answer, he merely shook his head slowly. At this Ahri gave a satisfied mew. She turned her head away from her prey to take another sip of her drink.

"Alright, then. Why are you here?" Ahri asked, her legs crossed, head resting on her hand.

The question hung in the air for several seconds, the words intertwining themselves with slow notes played from the band up front.

"Wha-What do you mean?"

"Why did you come for a drink? There has to be a reason," Ahri questioned playfully, not realizing that her prying inquiry was forcing Taric to think, to formulate an acceptable answer.

Taric's mouth opened itself to answer, only to remain agape as the gem knight tried to find a suitable answer. But his open mouth could most likely also be accredited to the posture Ahri was sitting in; her elbow resting on the bar counter, her body faced towards his in a slanted posture, one leg placed atop the other, her left unoccupied hand drumming its fingers atop her bare thigh.

"I…uh…well…a drink…here…"

He continued to utter incoherent words, still unable to find a suitable reply.

Seeing the dilemma at hand, fate intervened, leaning in to Taric's ear.

_Just tell the truth_, he whispered, completely halting Taric's utterances.

Giving a sigh, the gem knight hung his head, his nervous eyes softening.

Ahri noticed the sudden change, raising an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes…there is actually."

Raising his head once more, Ahri could see his anxious visage completely replaced with one that expressed sorrow, hurt. She felt her heart skip, her inner emotions utterly relating to the feelings displayed on his face.

Taric gave another sigh, turning his body toward the bar counter. The mess with his whiskey had long been cleaned by Rumble, leaving the bar as spotless as it was before.

A new drink had been poured for the gem knight, which lay untouched beside Ahri's half-consumed glass of liquor.

"I…I'm here because I'm lonely."

At these words Taric felt as if a load had been released from his shoulders, the honest truth finally uttered from his mouth. He turned his head to look at the woman seated beside him, his eyes still glazed with their solitary gaze.

Ahri stared at him, face blank.

How could someone be so…blunt? Her eyes still wide, she felt something begin to surface within her psyche, an emotion directed to the man before her; compassion.

From the longing look his eyes possessed to the thin, forced grin on his lips, Ahri could understand everything Taric was going through. Silence continued to fill the space between the two parties; Ahri's seductive aura all but disappeared. The desire to acquaint herself with the man before her other than the initially planned activities for that night continued to grow within her, and if it wasn't for interference by a certain outside force, this would have been the start of a problem-free romance, not a tragedy that I need to record.

But unfortunately for the fox woman and the gem knight, fate had other things in store.

_What are you waiting for? _He whispered into Ahri's ear, the cold watching over his shoulder with worried curiosity. _This is your chance._

And just like that, Ahri's conflicting emotions disappeared, all replaced with her one sole desire to have a shoulder to cry on, a strong man to pleasure her. The switch within her mind switched, and all at once her seductive, sultry self appeared once more.

The cold drifted beside fate with a questioning look on her face. She saw what had occurred, fate's visage still grim and serious. Her small blue eyes analyzed the scene before her, observing how different it was compared to the atmosphere before fate's interference. Curious, the cold spoke for the first time, her soft, crackling voice lowered to a frosty whisper.

_Why did you do that?_

Fate looked on, oblivious to the cold's presence. He remained silent for the longest time, until finally he spoke, his voice still sober and businesslike.

_It is my job._

With that, fate turned silent once more. Realizing that was the only answer she could receive the cold remained silent as well, joining fate to watch the events below them unfold.

Suddenly fate pointed his finger towards Ahri, silently prompting the cold to sweep over her once more, sending a chill down her spine.

This sudden chill, along with fate's soul-shifting whisper drove Ahri to action.

Deciding that it was time for her plans to come into fruition, she grinned sultrily at Taric, uncrossing her legs whilst repositioning herself to face him completely. Then with an over-exaggerated yawn, Ahri stretched her arms skyward, shutting her eyes tight. Clasping her fingers together, her arms reached up as far as they could go above her head, allowing her chest to be pushed outward in an obscene display of eye-popping proportions.

At this sight Taric blushed profusely, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from Ahri's body as she quivered faintly from her stretching efforts, her breasts bouncing ever so slightly as her arms continued to reach toward the sky. With a bit of a struggle, he politely turned his gaze away to look at Rumble, who was still cleaning glasses, observing the whole ordeal with amusement. Once their eyes met, the Yordle gave Taric a grin and an encouraging wink.

Finally Ahri released her held breath with a soft sigh, opening her golden pupils to gaze at the flustered man before her. She ignored the crowd of other men gawking at her all around with their jaws dropped.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asked with a coy look.

The sound of her voice made Taric swivel his head back towards her direction, only to cause his blush to brighten in intensity. Still completely rattled by the gratuitous sight of her creamy skin burned into his mind, Taric fumbled about, looking for the watch he always brought around in his pocket.

Finally he found it, stating the time to her in a stuttering voice.

"Well, well. I think it's about time for me to get home," Ahri said, grinning when she saw a look of sadness instantly cloud over Taric's eyes after she hopped onto her feet.

"But…" she continued with a whisper "…I wouldn't mind at all if we shared a drink at…your place."

By now Ahri is standing directly next to Taric's ear, her lips close enough to brush against his skin. Making sure that her tails acted as a shroud, Ahri allowed one tail to slowly slide down Taric's chest, until…

"M-Miss Ahri!"

At that, Taric bolted off of his stool right before her tail reached the most sensitive region on his body. Ahri turned around, giggling mischievously.

"How about it?"

Taric stood awkwardly, wary to stay at least a foot away from her.

"I-I um…"

He thought about this, pondering whether or not to accept Ahri's offer. In all his life, he had never been caught in this type of situation, and to speak truthfully, Taric's heart began to beat with excitement.

To have a woman in his room! One _this _beautiful at that! This was nothing short of being any man's dream. All the things that he could do to-

Taric shook these vulgar thoughts from his head vigorously. He wasn't the type of person who would take advantage of a woman like that. Besides, it looked like she had more than quite a few drinks already, who knows if she was drunk or not?

For the second time that night, fate intervened, whispering in Taric's ear with his authoritative voice.

_Take her to your room. This is what you wanted right? Now you won't be lonely anymore._

Fate's whisper has the same effect it did with Ahri, something within Taric's brain clicked.

"S-Sure. But I-I hope you don't mind that I o-only have some...champagne."

Well, something in his brain _somewhat _clicked.

Grinning widely at his answer, Ahri instantly walked over to take him by the hand, much to the chagrin of the men around them. Blushing at the sudden contact of skin, the gem knight is forced to follow the fox woman as she led the both of them out of the Reflecting Chamber at a brisk pace.

Pushing the large double doors of the room open, music from the stage followed them as they walked through the halls of the Institute, the smooth notes of a piano accompanying the voices of Evelynn and Twisted Fate as they performed a duet. Their voices followed Ahri and Taric down the hall…

_I simply must go-_

_But baby, it's cold outside._

_The answer is no-_

_But baby, it's cold outside._

_This welcome has been…_

_Been hopin' tht dropped in._

…_so nice and warm._

_Look out the window at that sto-_

….until finally the large doors of the Reflecting Chamber shut closed, the cold tailing the fox and the gem knight, hand in hand with fate.

Following the two until they had reached Taric's room, fate placed a hand on the cold's shoulder to stop her from entering. Answering her bemused gaze, fate said,

_It's best to give them their privacy until morning. _

The cold blushed.

* * *

An hour passes.

One thing led to another. And another. And another.

On the floor of Taric's room, the wooden chair he had been sitting in several hours before is toppled on its back, lying beside an empty bottle of champagne.

The trail of destruction continued to escalate the closer it got to Taric's bed, broken glass and hastily-removed shoes giving way to piles of clothing.

It is obvious what is occurring atop the white sheets that spilled onto the ground, sounds of kissing and intimacy echoing around the room. A giggle or two slips out from the myriad of noises, along with an occasional moan.

Suddenly a struggle occurs, the locking lips of both parties separated, Taric responsible.

His cheeks flushed, breaths heavy, he looked up at the woman straddling him from above. The gem knight still wore his briefs, contrary to Ahri's completely naked body.

Gazing into Ahri's golden pools, Taric held her back with his hands, his thumbs stroking her bare shoulders. Her soft lips are curled into a playful smile.

"A-Are you sure about this Miss Ahri? We only have j-just met. You should go to your room and…we can get to know each other better later."

All at once, the smile from Ahri's face disappeared, replaced with an expression more sincere.

They gazed at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, faces lit by the toppled lamp that lay beside Taric's bed.

Then, one word is uttered from Ahri's lips.

"Please."

A random tear fell from her eye, taking Taric by complete surprise.

"Please," Ahri repeated, another tear streaming down her cheek, before being accompanied by another and another, her face contorted with a painful grimace.

Her body began to quiver as she continued to cry, the weeping escalating to the point of sobbing.

"Hey, hey…"

Taric sat up, removing Ahri's limp body from his waist before taking her in an embrace as she continued to cry, muffled sniffling heard as he hugged her. His hand stroked her hair, allowing her to continue crying into his chest, her warm tears trickling down his abdomen.

"Taric…please…I just…"

Withdrawing from the embrace, Taric kept her at arm's length away with his hands on her shoulders, watching intently as Ahri dried her tears with her hands. Finally she looked up at him, a fringe of hair covering one of her eyes still wet with tears.

"…Snowdown…I've always felt lonely during the time of Snowdown," Ahri uttered softly, shaking her head. "Every single year, since the day my family of died, I've been alone during this time of year. All the men who supposedly gave me their hearts, promised me love, they would always leave me to spend time with another person they held dear. Every single Snowdown I was forced to peer into the homes of people enjoying themselves, lovers loving, families laughing together in front of fireplaces, happy.

"Until I joined the League a few weeks ago, every year I would skirt towns and cities, trying my best to keep away from the welcoming lights reflected on the snow. I tried, because I knew I would only hurt myself if I saw happiness.

"When I was assigned a dormitory room here in the Institute, I was so happy. I thought that this year would be different. I thought someone would be there, that I wouldn't be lonely. But no, it's the same _damn _thing. I…I'm so…"

At that Ahri began to cry again, covering her face with her hands.

Taric embraced her again, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

"Ahri…you can stop."

They separated again, with Ahri looking at Taric with her glimmering eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile, wiping away the remnants of her tears with his thumbs, taking her face within his hands.

"You can stop crying. I'm here," Taric said softly, these words causing more tears to flow from Ahri's eyes.

"You don't need to be lonely this year. I'm here."

And he meant it. Maybe it was just because he completely understood what the fox felt, or that he also needed a shoulder to cry on. But for whatever reason, Taric knew at that moment that he loved her. They may have only met an hour ago, but as their lips met once more in an intimate kiss, Taric felt something well up from within him, something that he had never felt towards another person.

Together, the two halves fell onto the bed in a silent flourish of skin and fur, becoming one. Their kisses were deep, their touches soft and intimate. Their breaths grew heavy as they shared their bodies in a romp of passion and desire.

The cold had slipped inside, blushing at the sight. Fate stayed in the halls, stating that it was unnecessary for him to interfere. Her instincts urged her forward, the cold surrounding Ahri and Taric as their actions continued, their naked bodies moving as one.

Loneliness was a thing of the past.

Slowly the cold ebbed away, replaced by bodily warmth. Taric gave all he had to the woman before her, sharing feelings he had never shared with anyone else flowing freely in every action he executed. Ahri willingly accepted it all, eyes shut, brimming with pleasure and relief.

For the first time since his arrival on Runeterra, Taric felt accepted, needed. He felt like he finally had someone to rely on, someone who in turn could rely on _him_. He loosed all of his passion, continuing to embrace Ahri with vigor.

For the first time since her transformation, Ahri felt accepted. She felt that she had finally found a friend, someone who could accept her faults, someone who could comfort her in the only way she knew how to be comforted.

Little did either of them know that the feelings they had for each other would be destructive, contradictory with their personalities and the plans fate had in store for them.

With a moan of mirth, Taric reached the peak of his pleasure, his energy drained, spirit rejuvenated. Ahri's desire also spent, she fell to the bed with her partner, side by side. Panting with satisfaction, their bodies yearned for rest. Sealing the night with a deep kiss, Ahri and Taric smiled, crossing the threshold into the land of dreams.

The cold continued blushing as her fingers delicately brushed every inch of their bare bodies, content smile on their faces.

Sensing the emotions present in the door behind him, fate shook his head.

* * *

_Well, things are just about to get very, very, depressing. _

_Just to clear things up, the next chapter directly coincides with the events in Mutual Benefits of a Troubled Man and a Seductress. You don't have to read that to understand what's going on, so don't worry. _

_This is probably the only thing in the story that's going to be smut, so sorry all of you usual fans._

_I'm going to dedicate all of December to working on this fic, so sorry if I don't update anything until January._

_Now be sure to review and all that jazz._

_Excelsior!_


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